God of Thieves

She punched me in the arm. “You’re a jerk. Maybe I won’t help you. Bet I could do your job with both hands tied behind my back.”

“Right now I’m not sure I can do my job, not if Hades keeps acting like this. And not if Zeus keeps giving me impossible tasks.”

“Hades will come around eventually, and we’ll work together on this list,” she said. “I’ll go down to the surface and check things out. You focus on the names I’ve circled, all right? But on one condition—after you finish this, you’re going to sneak off and mingle with mortals. I’ll cover for you.”

I glanced down at the list. Somehow she’d narrowed it down to a manageable number. “Really?”

“Really.” She squeezed my arm. “Some things are more important than kissing Zeus’s ass.”

Coming from Iris, that meant loads. “If we get through this, remind me to tell you I love you.”

She snorted, though her cheeks turned pink. “Please. I know you love me. It practically oozes out of you.” Giving me a pat on the hand, she stood. “Don’t fall asleep, lazy, else I really will have no choice but to replace you, bloodlines be damned.”

“Whatever you say,” I said with a tired grin. But the tea helped, and if she stuck to her word, this might be doable, after all. “And Iris?”

She stopped, inches from the portal. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. You’re not nearly as heinous as everyone says you are.”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped into the crystal circle and grinned. “You really are such a jerk.”

Together, Iris and I finished the list by the time the council reconvened. No idea how we managed it—magic, probably, or some sort of tear in time—but we did.

Six names were unaccounted for. Older gods and goddesses whose roles had been taken over by newer ones. I’d triple-checked those to make sure, but it wasn’t good news. Neither of us could find them. I should’ve stayed to tell the council; someone had to, after all, but by the time we finished, Iris was practically pushing me toward the portal.

“Go,” she said. “I mean it. I’ll give the list to Zeus.”

“He’ll smite you if he finds out you’re covering for me. Sure it’s worth it?” I said.

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, if you figure this out, maybe they’ll forgive you for the whole Persephone thing.”

I frowned. Right. I didn’t need another reminder, but it was a possibility. Maybe they would forgive me. Maybe this would be enough to get me back on the council’s good side. Doubtful, but worth a shot.

Iris sighed dramatically and gave me a little shove. “Why do you always have to be so difficult? Get your ass down there before I have to drag you to the balcony and throw you.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. Be safe, all right? Don’t disappear in a puff of smoke or whatever.”

“You, too,” she said. “And don’t come back until you’ve figured this thing out.”

“Which might be never.”

“By then, we’ll all be gone, so it won’t matter.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against my cheek. Unexpected, and my face grew hot. Iris laughed. “For luck, not to feed your fantasies. Now get out of here.”

Footsteps sounded from one of the hallways, and I didn’t need any more encouragement. I hopped onto the portal and gave Iris a halfhearted wave. This wasn’t one of our better ideas, but we didn’t have much choice. The gods were dying off. Even if we had several eons before the council faded, that wasn’t a chance any of us could take. Zeus was an idiot for playing it safe.

I slid through the portal with ease, and in the midst of dropping to the surface, I closed my eyes and relaxed. The solution had to be somewhere on the surface. A book, a town, some kind of religious theory—whatever it was that would bring me closer to understanding why we were dying.

That sort of hazy thought didn’t always work, and when I landed in the trees, I cursed. I’d expected to wind up in Rome or a library or something—somewhere with books and knowledge and answers, the kind Athena always seemed so good at finding. I didn’t have a chance of unearthing anything like that in the middle of a forest.

But when I started a more focused sweep of the surface, something twanged in my core, pulling me south. Not the kind of connection I usually got whenever something I was looking for was within reach—instead, it was a vague feeling that made me want to kick a tree. Vague wouldn’t solve this problem. It wouldn’t give me answers. And it sure as hell wouldn’t save my family.

Not as if I had a lot of leads though, and I needed time to cool down before I tried again. With Iris helping me with the list, I’d had time for a short nap, but exhaustion did nothing for my temper. And I’d be no good to the council pissed off.

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t my fault Hades was acting like an ass, and it wasn’t my fault Persephone had chosen to give up her immortality. Everyone liked to pretend it was, but it wasn’t, and I forced that one simple truth down my own throat. I was a scapegoat. And the only way I could make them see it was by finding a solution.